A Study in Locks
by Freelancestoryteller
Summary: John walks in on Sherlock, poised and ready to cut off his curls. This can't be right! John tries to persuade him not to. Bad summary but fluffy Johnlock!


_Ok so a few weeks ago my brother had all his Sherlock curls cut off and I was distraught at what he'd done, so I'm going to start typing and see what happens, just fluffy fluffiness...probably!_

John rolled his shoulders as he was walking, all the food shopping was very heavy, cutting off the circulation to the tips of his fingers and was playing havoc with his bad shoulder by the time he made it up Baker Street. Stupid Sherlock couldn't do such a mundane task as food shopping, that would be too beneath him. Once he reached his flat he put one hands worth of plastic bags down in order to fumble around his pocket for his keys. Once he had finally unlocked the door and made it up the stairs, which seemed like a mountain when carrying his own weight in cans, he finally reached the kitchen where he sighed and collapsed into the chair and dropped the bags at each of his sides.

After a few seconds of recovery he slowly began to put away the shopping. He reached into a bag and pulled out some shaving cream and toilet roll and so went to the bathroom to put them away. As he reached the door he found Sherlock in their standing over the sink, still in his well fitted suit and fetching purple shirt, with a white towel draped over his shoulders and soggy curls framing his face.

'Sherlock, what on earth are you doing?' John asked not being able to quite figure it out.

'I'm cutting my hair.' Sherlock stated simply as if it was nothing.

'No you bloody well are not!' John insisted, throwing the items into the bath, both men quickly went to grab the scissors from the side of the sink but John got their first. Sherlock stood up straight and looked at him with that cold stare that John recognised as his deducing face.

'John, why do you care?' Sherlock asked after a few moments, cutting into the silence.

'No Sherlock, why are _you_ cutting your hair without talking to me?' John demanded, Sherlock could sense distress in his voice but couldn't for the life of him figure out why he would be so offended.

'I didn't think you would care. I just thought that maybe I should try it shorter, I still look like a child with my hair long.' Sherlock said calmly looking for approval from John to continue with the procedure. John kept a firm grip on the scissors and scowled at the man before him.

'Sherlock Holmes, never say that again, you suit your hair long and of course it matters to me.' Sherlock didn't know how to respond to this, John took a few steps forward until he was stood mere centimetres away from Sherlock's, he took his right hand and ran it through the taller mans curls. 'I think they're wonderful.' Sherlock looked at John's face, dilated pupils, he could feel John's breath quicken. 'Sherlock Holmes stop deducing me and just say something.' John said firmly.

'I don't know what to say.' Sherlock said. Finally, John had rendered Sherlock Holmes speechless, he had began to believe it impossible. 'John I can see that...' Oh no, there he goes again. John knew how to shut him up though. He grabbed Sherlock's curls at the back of his head, forcing his head down so that he could press their lips together for a quick chaste kiss. They both pulled away suddenly, to see the reaction of the other.

'Well.' John said. 'There you go.' Sherlock just stared at him, unmoving. He saw the jumper clad man look at the floor and shuffle a bit. 'Right' John said and spun around and began to leave in a hurry at Sherlock's apparent rejection.

'Wait.'

John turned around and forced himself to look Sherlock in the eye. They both stood looking, tension building as to what Sherlock was about to say, however words failed him. John turned again to leave but as he reached the door Sherlock spoke.

'John Hamish Watson, if you don't come back here and do that again, I will shave my head completely.' John grinned like a Cheshire cat before turning around and walking purposefully over to Sherlock and pulling him into a searing kiss, dirtier than the one before but no less passionate. As they resurfaced to breathe, Sherlock whipped the towel from behind his shoulders and grabbed John's hand and placed it on his hair, simultaneously pulling the man in again. As much as John was enjoying this, he quickly pulled away, much to Sherlock's dismay.

'Bedroom?' he offered.

'Bedroom.' Sherlock confirmed, as he pulled John along by his hand.

**Please submit any story ideas you'd like to see and any reviews would be much appreciated, they make me write more and better!**


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